


Maker, Take Me

by TheAstralTina (TinaOnTheAstralPlains)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Inquisition Mounts (Dragon Age), Nuggalopes, Shameless Smut, Skyhold, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:18:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinaOnTheAstralPlains/pseuds/TheAstralTina
Summary: Smut for smut's sake. Cullen and Isabeau Treveylan (My OTP from my other fics) start on the battlements and take it inside. Inspired by the dream of a dear friend. Thanks for letting me use your muse when I couldn't find my own!Inspired by Bioware's Dragon Age.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle (http://dadrunkwriting.tumblr.com/) on 01/06/17. There was lots of bourbon involved. Written drunk and drunker. Edited drunkest at 4 AM. This is what you get. It was a great exercise for me in letting go of control! Thanks DWC for a great time!
> 
> Trigger warning: Talks about death of her brothers and father and the conclave.

“Maker, Take Me”

By: The Astral Tina

 

Skyhold loomed in the distance, far above the other tall snow capped peaks below. It had been nearly two months since she had been home.

Home...it had become home to her, finally. Hearing Sera’s snicker from behind a corner, the sound of Bull’s deep chortle from across the sparing yard, Cassandra’s disgruntled noise as she turned the page of Varric’s latest book, Josie’s heels clicking on the slate floor — those were the sounds of home.

Her brother’s and father had passed away at the conclave. Her sister was still in the Circle at Ostwick, and her mother held the Trevelyan estate all by herself. Isabeau was afraid to go back, to hear the quiet of the halls. Perhaps she would still hear the clink of a teaspoon on a saucer, or the dogs’ nails on the Tevinter marble floors. But, the laughter of her brothers would never again ring through the foyer.

Lily, her Gwaren Land Hammer, lumbered easily over the mountain path, turning around often to wait for the horses to catch up. Even the sure footed Ferelden Forders, raised in the hills of the Hinterlands were no match for Lily’s surefooted stride on these rocks. Isabeau laid down on the nuggalope’s neck, inhaling the scent of hay and dirt, running her fingers across the deep folds of Lily’s skin. She ran a fingernail across the ridges of her spiraling horns; it was almost musical.

One tree trunk sized leg raised, and Lily started for Skyhold once again. 

Dorian harumphed. “This horse is too slow. I’m getting an Imperial Warmblood next time. Perfection shouldn’t be trifled with.”

Vivienne tsked. “Orlesian Coursers are far superior to your Tevinter mounts. But, I wouldn’t dare bring one through these hills. We’d lose a shoe.”

Cassandra avoided the pitfalls of the mages’ conversation. “Inquisitor, when we get back I will make the report to Leliana and Josephine.”

Isabeau always made the reports. “Cassandra, there’s no need for that, really. I can do it.”

“I must make a report for the Seeker journal as well. It will practically be the same report. I assure, you, it’s no trouble,” the Seeker promised.

The Inquisitor conceded. “Very well. I’m exhausted. I’ll see to your horse.”

“You know, we actually PAY people to do that here! Stable boys, they’re called,” Dorian informed her. 

“Dorian, a good horsewoman sees to her own mount,” Isabeau chided.

 

“You need to see to that mount,” he smirked with a nod of his head. The ends of his moustache curled more roguishly than usual.

Isabeau knew what he was suggesting. Her heart fluttered at the sight of the tall, golden haired man atop the front gate of Skyhold.

Cullen waved ecstatically and signaled for the drawbridge to be lowered, then disappeared.

She nudged Lily into a quick lumbering pace. A stable boy took her reins as she dismounted, finally in the courtyard of Skyhold. “There’s no need, lad. I’ll see to her.”

“You’ll do no such thing. He grew up around nuggalopes. He’ll take good care of her. I promise.” Cullen slid a warm hand down her arm, taking her by the hand. He tugged. 

She followed, forgetting all about the nug, the bickering mages, and the report she wasn’t writing.

His fingers firmly gripped hers. Without so much as a glance backwards he lead her up one stairway, then another until they were high above Skyhold on the ramparts. When he was sure they were far away from prying eyes he twirled her into his arms.

“I missed you terribly.” Those amber eyes searched her face, measuring all the curves and angles in case anything had changed.

She laughed. “I see that.” A thick, dry lump formed in her throat. “I missed you, too.” The cold air this high up stung her lungs. She inhaled sharply, coughing.

“You’re sick?” 

Isabeau shook her head. “No. I’m just not used to this cold, wet air yet. I was in the Western Approach for a month. I missed the air here. But, I forgot not to inhale that deeply way up here.”

He stood there looking at her. His eyes travelled up and down the length of her body.

She smiled from ear-to-ear, noticing the bags under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks. “You haven’t slept,” she said rubbing a thumb across the two weeks of growth in the divot under his nose on his upper lip. Somehow, the spiky texture felt strangely like velvet.

His lips parted, taking her thumb between his teeth, nibbling delicately on the tip. His eyes met hers. He kissed the tip, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his chest.

The gesture was romantic, but his breastplate was cold.

“You’re tired,” he said embracing her.

“You’re tired!” she accused.

He scoffed. “I hear that a lot lately.” Taking her chin between thumb and forefinger he turned her face up to his. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

Home. “Me too.”

As if he were afraid to break her, Cullen pressed his lips to hers. She leaned into him, wrapping an arm around his neck bringing them closer.

Lips caught lips, swept up in the moment. He backed her up against the stone, burying one hand into her long windswept hair. The other reached down, cupping her backside, pulling her against him.

Moaning into his mouth she realized how much she wanted him in this moment. She grabbed the neck of his breastplate pulling him into her. He grunted with need, scooping her up in both arms and lifting her off the ground. Her legs wrapped around his back, her arms around his broad shoulders

Teeth tugged. Hands groped. Chests rumbled. Heat rose.

A door creaked open, then immediately slammed shut.

Isabeau giggled.

Cullen grunted with displeasure, then straightened his shoulders. Running a hand through his hair he pulled her in close. “Come. I have something to show you.”

Hand-in-hand, like two young lovers, they practically skipped across the keep. Her smile radiated across Skyhold. Orlesian nobles sneered, and Dwarven craftsmen nodded appreciatively as the Commander nearly drug the Inquisitor to the door of her quarters...in broad daylight.

 

When they approached the top of the stairs he covered her eyes. “Where did you sleep in that desert?”

“In tents. Why?”

“Did you have bunks?”

“No, in sleeping bags on cots. Where are you going with this, Cullen?” She reached up putting her hand over his.

“Trust me.”

She noticed that he didn’t ask; he didn’t need to. It was a request, a simple request. One he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she could make.

“What was the material of the sleeping bag?”

“Linen, rough and warm, stuffed with goose down.”

His breath streamed down her neck. His fingers dipped into her scarf, unraveling it. “What did you wear to bed?”

The hair on her arms stood on end. Her skin tingled as her head dropped to the side. “Those thick Avvar cotton pants, and longsleeve top. It was hot in the day but, chilly at night. I missed you. When I was in bed… all alone.” Her voice was barely above a whisper now.

He untucked the hem of her shirt. His fingertips skated along her ribs, sliding his fingers into her belt, removing it one handed. The other still covered her eyes. As her jerked on the end of the leather, he pulled her back towards him pressing his groin into her backside. “What did you do when you missed me?” His voice hissed over her skin. He tugged the tunic over her head, leaving it to cover her eyes.

The rough skin of his warrior’s hands slid over her shoulders, down to her breasts, teasing her nipples to attention as he rolled them between his fingertips.

She buckled against him. From behind he gently nudged her legs forward, walking her towards the bed.

He finished unbuckling her belt, snapping it out quickly through the belt loops.

Her hand went to her waistband, pushing the doeskin down her hip. His hand quickly found hers, following. He shoved her pants down to her boots, fondling her ass, massaging the saddle-sore muscles. Giving her a slap, then a rub, he told her, “You didn’t answer my question.”

She moaned, hanging from his neck, rubbing her ass against the erection straining at his trousers. “Which question was that? I don’t remember?”

He pushed her down to sit on the edge of the bed. “I want you to show me what you did, alone, in your tent.”

Isabeau put two fingers into her mouth, sucking on one, then the other. Her tongue swirled invitingly, reaching out to wet her lips. She trailed the fingers between her breasts, over her stomach, down between her legs.

“That’s my girl.” He pushed her knees apart, peppering kisses along her inner thigh, down to her knee before removing her boot and pants leg. Pausing to watch her fingers dip into her smooth, wet lips he brought his face to her hand. His tongue darted between her fingers, tasting her sweet juices.

Her fingers disappeared inside of her. She brought them out dripping to circle her swollen clit. A growl escaped his chest as he dipped his tongue into her, suckling, and licking.

The breath hitched in her chest as her pelvis rocked against his face.

Cullen jumped to his feet ripping off her other boot and her pants, shoving her back onto the bed, and tearing the shirt off of her head. He was standing before her, surprisingly naked. Somehow while she was distracted he removed not only his clothing, but his armor as well.

He straddled her, reached an arm under her back picking her up to slide her up to the head of the bed.

She loved when he manhandled her. Cullen would hold her up against a wall to fuck her, or rub her head when she had a headache. This man was everything she had ever wanted.

As he lowered himself over her she reached for him. Their mouths met. His hard cock rubbed against her wet mound, over her throbbing clit. Her body undulated under him. His mouth captured her neck, then her mouth before he slid in his cock, burying himself to the hilt inside of her.

Oh! How her body ached for him, clamping around him, not wanting to let go.

He moved inside of her, slowly at first as her hips rose and fell with his rhythm. He sped up, becoming furious in his need. After all, it had been two months! 

Isabeau laid a hand on his chest, pushing gently. He rolled over, taking her with him. Straddling him she slowed things down, Cupping her breasts, flicked his thumbs across her nipples, pinching them as she winced, tightening around his shaft. Squeezing as she went up to the head, and releasing as she slid back down.

Again she licked her fingers and slid them onto her clit, circling it. Taking her lip between her teeth, knowing it would drive him wild, she let her head fall back, reaching with her other hand. She grabbed his balls, massaging them slowly, yet firmly, then stroked a finger up the sensitive skin beneath. He shuddered. She giggled provocatively.

“You’re going to make me come, Love.”

She went slack, slowly bending her lips to his ear. “That’s the idea, Commander.” Ferociously, she rode his cock, kissing his stubbled lips. “Come for me, Cullen.”

He grabbed her hips and began rocking her back and forth over him. “You first.” With all his strength he held her to him as he fucked her from below. 

She could feel his fingers digging into her flesh, his cock ramming into her harder than it ever had before. The muscles of her core tightened around him. She clenched as the wave of orgasm swept deliciously over her. As her body vibrated with convulsions of pure pleasure he joined her. He spilled his seed into her as he climaxed, calling out, “Maker take me!”

**Author's Note:**

> Find lots more Cullen love from me and other Cullenites on http://cullenites.tumblr.com/
> 
> Join Drunk Writing Circle on Friday nights for prompts and fun!


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